Guiamo

Guiamo

By Marshall W. Best

Copyright 2009 Marshall W. Best

Smashwords Edition

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Guiamo

Table of Contents

Chapter One, 60 B.C.

Chapter Two, 59 B.C.

Chapter Three, 58 B.C.

Chapter Four, 57 B.C.

Chapter Five, 56 B.C.

Chapter Six, 55 B.C.

Glossary

Chapter One - 60 B.C. Early Summer

Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, Act II Scene V

From the back of the two-wheeled, ox drawn cart, the boy listened intently to the bitter, barely concealed conversation between the ragged farmer and his sullen wife. He affectionately stroked the neck of the farmer’s black and white dog. Disturbed by the discussion, he gave the dog a tender hug for reassurance.

How can you do this? said the woman in frustration, I know we are in a difficult position, but Guiamo is my sister’s son.

The man’s face turned stony. The world is a hard place, and right now he is a burden. I cannot feed that boy, and you know it. We lost the land, and that is that.

The woman’s face pinched into a bitter scowl, You lost the land. It was your drinking that caused it. It was all those wild nights with your worthless friends, gambling and drinking until dawn.

Silence, woman, snapped the man.

And now the boy will suffer for it, said the woman.

I said be silent, he glared. It is not my fault. The crops were bad this year. They have been bad for three straight years, and nobody can blame me for that.

He shifted in his seat and switched the whip at the ox. He turned to glance at the boy seated among their few belongings. It irritated the farmer that the dog had become so attached to the boy rather than himself.

Angrily he said, There was a time when I could manage to raise your sister’s boy, but now is not that time. I cannot find work, and both our bellies are empty. He fidgeted in his seat and muttered, Maybe the butcher was right. We could sell the boy to him as a slave. You know we could use the money, and out here so far from Rome, no one would give it a second thought. It would give us a chance to start again. I still have a notion to sell him to Numerius Antoninus.

The woman’s face became stony cold. She said bitterly, My sister would never forgive me for that. Poverty is something we have had to deal with, and it is a life she would have expected for him. The life facing the boy will be unpleasant enough, but slavery is something else altogether. He will have a hard life, that is for sure, but at least he will be free.

The husband responded, The butcher would make sure he is fed. That is better than starving to death.

The wife replied, Slavery is not an option, and you know it.

The man paused gloomily. I know, I know. But our options are few.

True, she said. It is a shame we cannot return to my homeland, but old grudges are never forgotten. She glanced at her husband to see what his decision would be.

He said, He will not starve. He may be only ten years old, but you have to admit, he is a clever little guy. He will find a way, if anyone can.

The wife was doubtful. Ten is too young. Anyone can see that. He will either starve or turn to thieving. He will get caught and they could put him to death.

The farmer replied, Well, if he does, that is his problem, Namiotanca, not mine. Not anymore.

They both fell silent as the cart continued rolling across the dirt path.

Guiamo lay in the back of the wagon feeling very alone as it lumbered down the dusty road. The long-haired dog had cozied up to the boy’s back for warmth, and it comforted Guiamo to know that at least his uncle’s dog cared for him. He fiddled with the dog’s long ears for which it had received the name Flaccus, which meant floppy ears.

After hearing his uncle Valerius talking to Namiotanca, he knew he was in trouble. They had considered selling him into slavery! If things were that desperate, he knew terrible changes were coming for him. He tried to think of what his uncle’s final decision would be for him, but the more he thought, the more frightened he became.

He had never trusted his uncle and aunt. Valerius was dangerous when he was drunk, and Guiamo had quickly learned to stay out of reach when wine was being poured. Namiotanca was selfish and begrudged every moment she had to spend taking care of the boy. Guiamo turned onto his side to put his arm over the dozing dog for comfort, and he drifted off to sleep.

Guiamo opened his eyes when the farmer’s ox was reined in to a stop. He propped himself up on an elbow to find it was late morning, and saw they were under the shade of an ancient cork tree which stood alongside a small stream that fed into a large blue lake. Bare-chested fishermen were mending their nets on the shore a stone’s throw from their oxcart. He could hear the songs of others laboring in their little boats as they cast their nets.

The boy realized that Valerius had been drinking the last of his wine while Guiamo had been sleeping. Facing his wife, Valerius spoke more to himself than to Namiotanca, So it is decided then. It is time for it.

Namiotanca asked surprisedly as she looked around, Here? In this desolate place?

Yes. Here. he said, angrily pointing to the ground next to the cart. You do not like here? Fine. How about there? he continued, angrily jabbing his finger toward a copse of oak trees on the right. Lifting his arm to point toward the horizon, he said Not good enough? How about over by that hill? Anywhere will do, so I say it is here; and right now. I am done with him. He swayed slightly in his seat as he turned toward Guiamo.

Boy! Valerius barked drunkenly, Get out of my wagon.

Confused at the gruff tone, Guiamo simply sat up.

Valerius stood and staggered as he stepped into the back toward the boy. I said get out! he shouted. His words were slurred from the wine. Guiamo looked at Namiotanca for help, but found only unsympathetic eyes glaring back at him.

I do not care if you are the son of my wife’s sister. his uncle shouted. I have no means for feeding us, let alone you, too.

Guiamo realized that his drunken uncle had made the critical decision while he had been sleeping next to Flaccus, and Valerius was now abruptly taking action.

Valerius grabbed Guiamo by the left arm and shouted, Get out! He stumbled a bit and roughly shoved the boy out the back of the cart onto the hard dirt road. It is time you learned to take care of yourself, he roared. Guiamo landed painfully on his right shoulder and crumpled into a heap.

Flaccus jumped out the back of the wagon and nuzzled Guiamo’s face. The boy was so surprised with this appalling turn of events that he simply lay there with tears streaming down his face.

Valerius turned his back on the stunned boy, swayed back to the driver’s seat, and whipped the ox to go. Come on, Flacce! Let us go! he called to the dog. Valerius was drunk enough that he did not glance back to see if his dog was following. He whipped the ox again, and the drunken farmer started down the path.

Flaccus stayed with Guiamo, protecting him while the boy slowly sat up. Guiamo wrapped his arms around his legs, and rested his chin upon his knees. He sat there in the middle of the road staring at the back of the ox cart as it slowly made its way around a grove of cedar trees and out of sight.

Guiamo sat dazed in the middle of the dirt road for over an hour, gazing off into the vagaries of the horizon, too stunned to react. A cloaked traveler with a walking staff passed Guiamo with no more than a casual glance. The abandoned ten-year-old sat uncomprehending, and took no notice. The breeze blew gently, the clouds drifted by, and the sun grew hot. A bothersome fly landed on his lip, and he brushed it away. With that, he took a deep breath, and began to shake off his stupor.

Guiamo gazed around and wondered what he should do next. Unfolding his arms to stretch, he realized he was thirsty, and slowly stood up. He walked over to the stream and dropped to his knees to take a drink.

The stream moved quickly, and the water was cool and clean. Guiamo took several sips of water and splashed some over his face. It felt refreshing in the heat, and reminded him of the stream by his mother’s home. Flaccus lapped up some water and seemed to be having a good time sniffing around.

Guiamo’s thoughts turned to his mother and father, now long dead. Guiamo’s father had been a legionnaire in the army of Rome, and had been killed in battle with a barbarian tribe to the north, but Guiamo couldn’t remember any other details. His mother had told him that his father had been a brave warrior, and that he, too, should be brave and strong like his father.

He’d been only five years old when his father, Appius Durmius Stolo, died, and Guiamo had few clear memories of him. While he had great respect for his father, Guiamo’s love was held dear for his mother, Agesdaca. He later watched his mother and elder brother, Appius, suffer from a feverish wasting disease, and both had succumbed to it when he was eight. With no other family to turn to, avunculus Manius Valerius Ruga reluctantly took him in. Namiotanca Ruga never accepted his decision and acted accordingly, flaunting her contempt for his decision on a daily basis.

Guiamo walked downstream to see the fishermen mending the nets on the lakeshore with Flaccus following closely. He knew he needed help, and they were the only ones around. As he hiked barefoot across the pebbly shore, he decided that since he didn’t know if these were good men or bad, he would be cautious. He also determined to be helpful to these men so that they would be willing to let him stay with them. Perhaps he could get some food to eat.

"Adulescens, dic mihi nomen tuum, quaeo called the oldest fisherman as he watched the boy and dog draw near. Young man, please tell me your name."

Guiamo replied with his full name, "Guiamo Durmius Stolo, fortissimus senex, referring politely to the fisherman as a strong old man. May I help you mend your nets?" he asked in as cheerful a voice as he could muster.

The sinewy, aging fisherman laughed and said, And what does a boy know of mending nets? But still, I see your manners are well taught. Come. If you will listen and learn, I will teach you. Guiamo studied the eyes of the men, and felt they were sincere and could be trusted.

The old fisherman introduced himself as Vibius Calidius Metellus. Calidius let Guiamo know that he’d seen the rough handling the boy had received from the drunk by the old cork tree.

Who was the lout who so gently helped you down from the oxcart? he asked sarcastically. Calidius listened patiently as Guiamo told his story of misfortune.

"By the gods, your avunculus deserves the life the Fates have given him. said Calidius grimly when Guiamo’s story was ended. Then his voice softened, Stay with me, boy. Work diligently on the nets, and your life will improve. The lot of a fisherman is a life of hard work, but it is honest work, and there is honor in that. We also eat well, and that is one of life’s greatest joys."

Guiamo agreed with a nod, and said, Then a fisherman, I shall be. Guiamo sat down and crossed his legs on the pebbly beach, readying himself to learn the ancient craft of net mending. And Flaccus shall learn to eat fish. he added with a smile.

Calidius shared his simple lunch of bread and dried fish with Guiamo, who showed his appreciation with an unexpected belch and a nervous, giggling laugh. With that, Calidius saw the tension in Guiamo begin to melt away as they quietly finished their simple meal. Calidius fed some spare chunks of fish to Flaccus, who gulped them down with great enthusiasm.

As Guiamo watched Calidius and the others, he realized that, though poor, they were good honest men. He soon recognized that he had found the refuge he needed.

As the fishermen ate their meal, Calidius formally introduced Guiamo to them all as Durmius. In great detail, Calidius told them Guiamo’s story with surprising accuracy. They said little, but listened well. Then Calidius introduced to Guiamo each of the seven fishers.

Publius Moravius Fullo was the tallest, and had worked for a time in Rome cleaning horse stalls for a nobleman. Spurius and Gnaeus Popillius Pulcher were brothers whose family had been fishermen on this lake for nine generations. Quintus Autronius Crispinus was a widower and had raised two marriageable daughters. Aulus Meridius Habitus, Guiamo noticed, walked with a limp. Calidius explained he had been severely wounded fighting in a Roman shield wall during his service with the legio and had nearly died from a stabbing thrust into his thigh. It was Meridius’ melodic voice that led the singing Guiamo had heard coming from the boats. Gnaeus Equitius Nerva owned a team of oxen for hire and worked fields most of the time. He netted fish only when farming work slowed down. The short man with curly hair was Servius Caedicius Quadratus. He was new to the village and had taken a liking to the younger of Autronius’ daughters, Autronia Crispinis Minor.

All the men agreed with Calidius that they’d help teach the boy, just so long as Calidius provided him with a place to sleep, food to eat, and a new garment about once a year. Then Calidius turned to Guiamo, I shall feed you, Guiamo, but from tomorrow you must feed Flaccus.

Pleased with his new surroundings, and seeing the fishermen to be men worthy of trust, Guiamo then asked to speak. He told them, I know it is proper that I should be called Durmius, but since you are all going to be my close friends, I would rather you call me Guiamo. It is the name my mother chose for me. Guiamo Laevinus was her father’s name, I think. She told me he was a good man, even if he was not born a citizen of Rome.

Meridius laughed and said As if being born a Roman is the sign of a good man. The others enjoyed his sarcasm and laughed heartily.

Autronius leaned forward and said Your mother’s father was a Gaul. It shows in your blue eyes. He also gave you your light brown hair. Did you ever meet him?

Guiamo thought carefully and then said, I remember seeing him working with horses. He was a big man with yellow hair and a long beard. His clothes were plain white. I think he had a big brown cloak that he would throw on top of me when I was little. I remember crawling out from beneath it. He was missing his front teeth. I remember that because he smiled a lot. I saw him kill a goose, and it flopped around for a while. That is about all I remember. He also sang songs to me when I went to bed. I liked his singing, but I did not understand any of the words.

Gnaeus Popillius asked, Where did your parents meet?

Guiamo gave him an impish smile and retorted, I was not yet born, so how would I know? Gnaeus Popillius grinned back at him. Guiamo continued, "I think they met when my father was serving in the legio. All I know is that he died in the north somewhere, and mother brought me back with my brother to his home to be raised a Roman. Then they both got sick and died."

The men murmured their sympathies for his plight. Moravius, Autronius and Equitius rose, and extended hands to Guiamo. Welcome to our village, friend, said Autronius. You have need of some things. Equitius then gave a length of rope to Guiamo. Moravius presented a well-worn iron knife, the blade a span in length, with a chipped handle of bone, and Equitius gave him a gourd water bottle. As the three returned to their places around the fire, Gnaeus Popillius then stood and presented Guiamo with a woolen hat. Caedicius then moved around their bonfire to greet Guiamo with a leather bag sewn with drawstrings and a shoulder strap. Spurius Popillius gave the boy a small clay oil lamp while Meridius limped closer. He gave Guiamo a clay jar of ointment for sore muscles. As everyone moved back to their seats by the fire, Calidius gave Guiamo an overlarge green blanket woven with a red fringe. This should fit you better as you grow, he said. All are good gifts, but as a fisherman, you will see that the ointment given you by Meridius is the greatest. He keeps its formula as a secret, and sells some in the village.

Thank you, said Guiamo with tears in his eyes. Such friends as this, I could never have hoped for. Perhaps the gods are smiling on me today.

Indeed they are, Calidius said. Indeed they are. You have shed an evil and have been delivered to good. That certainly is a blessing of the gods. He paused to reflect, and glanced at the sun. He spoke to the seven fishermen, The day is passing. Let us now go back to our work. I shall teach the boy.

The seven gathered their nets and returned to their boats. Guiamo sat quietly with Calidius, and began to learn to mend nets. As they worked the ropes, Calidius varied the lessons from the practical skills of netting fish to the more important lessons of being a good man.

What has two hands, the right giving joy and the left bringing despair? he asked Guiamo as the day grew late.

Guiamo enjoyed riddles, but try as he might; he was just too tired to give a good answer.

It is wine, said the elder. A little wine makes a man merry, but much wine brings a man to ruin.

And so, an old, poor fisherman in a tiny village on the outskirts of Roman civilization began to teach the lessons of life to an abandoned orphan boy.

The summer lasted long, and Guiamo’s skin tanned under the sun. His muscles grew stronger through the toil of a fisherman’s life. Calidius taught Guiamo first how to mend the nets and weave baskets to carry fish to market. The boy’s quick fingers soon outpaced his teacher, and he was pleased that his dexterity made the old man’s work lighter. Calidius was surprised at the eagerness with which Guiamo embraced his teaching, and quickly found himself challenged to have fresh insightful lessons each day.

Guiamo was delighted when Calidius told him that it was time to learn to cast the net. The elder man showed how a twist at the wrist put the net into the beginnings of a spin which caused the net to spread wide. Guiamo rather quickly learned the need to spin the net, but found he didn’t have the arm strength to cast it effectively. Undaunted, he spent many afternoons working to improve his skill.

Guiamo’s catch went to Calidius who traded some with the villagers for their daily needs. Some they cooked fresh, and the rest was smoked or salted. They ate well, but Calidius never allowed Flaccus to have any of it. He insisted that Guiamo work extra to feed the dog.

Each day after supper, when the others had gone home, Guiamo tried his hand at netting fish so Flaccus would never go hungry. Even on the rainy days, he would go out to fish. Guiamo put on his wool hat and braved the weather for his dog’s sake. He quickly grew tired of netting in bad weather and tried to think of clever ways to catch fish more easily.

One morning, when Calidius was feeling ill, Guiamo went alone to the lake. In his mind, he had devised a fish trap into which he intended to frighten the fish. He went to the east side of the lake where the water was only as deep as his waist for over fifteen passuum, or paces. He began pushing long, straight sticks into the muck on the lake’s floor. They were placed closely enough together to form a nearly solid wall, quite sufficient to keep fish within.

All morning long, with his bone handled knife, he cut green branches in the wood nearby, trimmed off the stems, and then waded out with an armful to the fish trap. By the end of the day, he had created two long stick walls. They were only a hand’s width apart where they began in the shallows near the shore and spread ever farther apart as they went out into the lake. He then sank a basket to the bottom, weighted with stones, near the shoreline at the place where the walls came together. Around the basket, he placed more sticks to form a complete wall around the basket.

Guiamo enjoyed the time he had to himself, but found that he had been so absorbed in his task that he had completely forgotten to eat his lunch. As the sun descended to the horizon, Guiamo ate his meal, and then headed back to the home he shared with Calidius.

Calidius was sick for the next two days, and Guiamo stayed with him, tending to his needs, keeping the fire, and doing other chores that needed to be done. Only on the second morning did Calidius feel well enough to let Guiamo go back out to the lake for a few hours as he slept.

Guiamo used the time improving his fish trap. Guiamo had determined that the trap was too weak to last long, so he interwove pieces of rope from worn out fishing nets among the sticks for strength and support. By noon, when he returned to his chores with tending Calidius, the trap was complete.

On the third day, when Calidius felt well enough to escort Guiamo out to the lake, he was delightfully surprised with the ingenuity the boy had shown. Calidius easily recognized their purpose of Guiamo’s creation. Guiamo intended to drive the fish from open water in between the two stick walls. As the fish would swim away from Guiamo in open water, those that moved in between the two walls would be funneled into the narrow opening and on into the trap. Once the fish passed through the narrowest point, they would be blocked from returning by a gate Guiamo would then insert. The fish would be captured simply by lifting the basket out of the water.

Guiamo asked to demonstrate his trap to Calidius. He waded out beyond the two stick walls and tried to find some fish. At first, whenever he saw a fish or two, he’d smack the surface of the water with a stick trying to frighten the fish in between the stick walls. After a tiring hour of meeting no success whatsoever, he figured that all he really was doing was scaring the fish into flight in all directions.

Calidius patiently watched, and then, as he turned to go back to the village, advised, You might have to guide the fish rather than frighten them.

Guiamo began to realize that by moving slowly through the water, he could nudge the fish in generally the correct direction. Experimenting by gently moving his arms out and forward under water to pressure the fish, he found he could sometimes steer the fish toward the trap entrance.

It took two evenings before he trapped his first fish. Guiamo excitedly called Flaccus, which came running. Guiamo picked up the basket and placed a cover over it. The flopping fish struggled in vain as the boy splashed through the water toward the shore. Once he was safely far enough from the water, Guiamo dropped the fish onto the ground. Flaccus lunged at the fish and in moments had it firmly in his teeth.

Guiamo was quite pleased with himself for having found a fun way to find fish for his dog. As he watched Flaccus consume the fish, he decided there must be an easier way to catch fish than swimming around all evening. Over the next week, he pondered ways to make his work easier.

Once, Guiamo found that a fish had swum into the trap by itself. He called Flaccus out into the shallow water. Once Flaccus saw the fish, he jumped over the stick wall to get it.

For the next fifteen minutes, Flaccus jumped, barked, splashed, chased and snapped at the frantic fish in the narrow confines of the stick wall. Eventually, Guiamo went into the tree line and returned with a large dead branch. He picked up Flaccus and put the soaking wet dog over the stick wall. Then, turning back to the trap with stick in hand, Guiamo waited patiently for the fish to stop swimming. It only took two tries. Guiamo swung the stick overhead to land flatly across the surface of the water directly above the fish. Stunned by the impact, the fish turned on its side and floated to the surface. In one fluid motion, Guiamo quickly grabbed the fish and heaved it onto the shore to Flaccus.

The boy soon grew tired of trying to guide the fish into the trap every evening, and decided that whatever found its way to the trap was good enough. He stopped spending his free time in the water and went back to his nets. Every day, Flaccus sniffed around in his trap and occasionally there was a fish or two in there.

While Guiamo spent some weeks casting nets with Calidius, the hard work motivated him to think of other ways to more easily catch fish. In the evenings when his daily work was completed, he tried spreading nets weighted with small stones on the bottom of the lake. With a pull on the attached ropes, he tried to raise the net as quickly as he could when a fish swam above.